


Sweetheart

by asroarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Reunion Sex, Reunions, Smut, soldier!bellamy, they think they're sneaky but everyone knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 07:30:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18132758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asroarke/pseuds/asroarke
Summary: “Bell!” he hears Octavia’s voice call out, and he jerks his head in that direction. And there his mother and sister are, tearing up with huge smiles on their faces. When he looks beside them, he notices that Clarke isn’t standing with them. His stomach drops.The sound of footsteps running toward him are the only warning he has before Clarke jumps into his arms. Before he can even register that it’s her, Clarke is peppering kisses all over his cheeks and chin. “Clarke, I—” The rest of his words are lost as she presses her lips hard against his.The soldier coming home fic no one asked for where they're eager to make up for lost time.





	Sweetheart

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from. I've been slowly working away at it for a month now, so now I'm just gonna throw it out at y'all. It's just a lot of young love and fluff. It made me feel happy to write it, so I hope it makes y'all happy to read it.

“She out there?”

Bellamy doesn’t have to ask who Miller is referring to. Lord only knows how many times he uttered her name in his sleep, let alone mentioned her to Miller and the others to distract himself from the warzone around them.

“Don’t see her yet.” His nose nearly presses against the glass window as he peers out from his train seat. There are hundreds of people gathered around the station, too many for Bellamy to locate anyone who might be waiting for him. He imagines Clarke is somewhere in the mob, buried in its center with his mother and sister.

At least, he is fairly certain she’s here. Over a year had passed since he left to go fight. A lot of things can change in a year. But he is almost certain that what Clarke feels for him has not.

It sounds naïve for him to think that. They were just teenagers when he left. The promises they made the night before when he climbed up to her window after her mom fell asleep… he wouldn’t hold her to now. Certainly not when there was only a slim chance he would come home to her. And he told her as much that night between desperate kisses.

But there is something buzzing in his chest telling him that his girl, the one he thought of every night before he drifted off to sleep, is waiting somewhere in that crowd for her soldier to come home.

Bellamy isn’t the only soldier on that train who jumps to his feet when the first door swings open. All of them do, including even the most disheartened and sullen of the bunch. Why even Murphy has his head out the window calling out to someone, probably the girl whose letters he stowed in his boots whenever it was time to move locations. The men on that train, boys really, have come to life in a way that they hadn’t since it was first announced they were coming home.

 _Home._ Still a strange concept after all the bodies he had to leave behind and the nights where he lied awake because he had no idea if he would live to see morning. It seems too good to be true. Just a week ago, he was buried in a trench, and tomorrow morning, he would wake up in a real bed.

Shuffling off the train takes longer than he’d like. There are just too many of them. But he watches through the windows as Sterling goes running toward his parents and Atom is pulled into a hug by his grandmother. With each warm welcome home he witnesses, his stomach flutters more in anticipation for his own.

When he steps off the train, he scans the crowd looking for his family. It’s hard to make anyone out in the crowd. Too many people in dark coats and hats, none of whom appear to be his mother or sister.

“Bell!” he hears Octavia’s voice call out, and he jerks his head in that direction. And there his mother and sister are, tearing up with huge smiles on their faces. When he looks beside them, he notices that Clarke isn’t standing with them. His stomach drops.

The sound of footsteps running toward him are the only warning he has before Clarke jumps into his arms. Before he can even register that it’s her, Clarke is peppering kisses all over his cheeks and chin. “Clarke, I—” The rest of his words are lost as she presses her lips hard against his.

They feel just as he remembers them, soft and warm, tasting a bit of the lipstick she would steal from her mom. He can faintly hear a few men around him whistling, and his cheeks turn red. But Bellamy doesn’t pull his lips away from hers until he sets her feet back on the ground.

He holds her face between his hands, and this beautiful smile takes over her lips. There are tears in her eyes, but she is giggling… Lord, how he had missed the sound of her happy giggles. And the feel of her soft skin beneath his fingertips. And the way her kisses always demand all his attention, making him unable to think of anything else.

It is scary to think of how many times he almost lost the chance to see her again. There were many moments where he was convinced he wouldn’t, including the last time they shared a tearful kiss. But somehow, he’s here with his sweetheart, far from the war that ripped them apart.

He forgets the crowd around them as he pulls her in by the waist and kisses her again. This one slower, hungrier, the kind that aches with longing. He shouldn’t kiss her like this here, he knows that. Her mother would throw a fit if she finds out that Clarke let Bellamy kiss her like this in public. But he survived a war and came home, so right now, he takes this moment to do whatever the hell he wants. And all he wants is to kiss his girl senseless until the ache of their separation begins to dull.

The whistles grow louder as his fingers weave into her golden curls and his tongue traces her bottom lip. Clarke clutches to his jacket, tugging him as tight against her as she can. Neither of them pull away. They just cling hard to each other as his fellow soldiers whistle at them.

“At least marry the girl first,” he hears his mother tease. He breaks away from Clarke with a blush, chuckling when he sees her cheeks turn red as well.

Bellamy rushes over to pull both his mother and Octavia into an embrace, pressing relieved kisses to both their heads. As he breaks away from them, he notices his sister giggling and pointing at his face. “You have a little lipstick…” Bellamy’s eyes snap over to Clarke, who ducks her head in embarrassment. This is far from the only time he had been caught with her lipstick all over him. He’ll never forget the night he snuck back into his house and his mom spotted Clarke’s pink lipstick all over his neck.

His mother, true to form, licks her thumb and begins rubbing the lipstick marks off his cheek. “Ma,” he huffs, but she ignores him. He lets her wipe it all off, even smiling as she teases him. He catches Clarke’s eyes, watching her blush deepen under his gaze.

She really is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Her eyes are bright and warm, a source of joy even in the bleakest surroundings. No wonder he dreamt of them every night. Her lips remain dark and bruised from his crushing kiss earlier, and as she bites down on her bottom lip, he itches to feel them again.

“I love you,” he mouths to her while his mother is still talking. And when Clarke mouths the same words back to him, it takes all the willpower he has not to get down on one knee and finally ask her to marry him.

 

* * *

 

Bellamy waits until after dark before sneaking over to the Griffin house. He takes a bath and gives himself a quick shave, and darts out the door before his mother could ask him where he was going.

It takes throwing just one pebble for Clarke to open her bedroom window. She must have been waiting for him. She sticks her head out the window, and her smile grows so bright that his heart feels like it might pound itself out of his chest.

“Is your mother asleep?” he whispers.

“Yes. Get up here.” With a chuckle, he begins climbing the trellis. He couldn’t count just how many times he has made this exact climb up to her before. The first few times, Jake Griffin caught him and gave him a stern talking to. But no matter how hard Bellamy tried to stay away, he would never be strong enough to resist seeing her. So, more often than not, he would find himself sneaking up to her bedroom just like this to steal a few kisses from her gorgeous lips.

Clarke crashes her lips onto his as soon as he is high enough to reach her. He nearly stumbles back when she kisses him, but her grip on his shoulders is sturdy enough to hold him in place until he can get his hands on the window sill.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she stutters out, her eyes wide in panic.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” he promises. “Just wait until I’m actually in your room before you pummel me again.” Clarke swats his arm at his teasing, and he lands a quick kiss to her cheek before swinging his leg into her room.

Her room hasn’t changed much since he last snuck in here. There is a new blanket on her bed, and her desk is a bit messier than he remembers, but little else is different. Clarke isn’t much different either. Her golden hair appears to be a bit longer. But everything else is the same. She still wears that sweet, flowery perfume, but just a small dab of it below her jawline so that he has to lean closer to smell it. Her lips still quirk up into that familiar smirk of hers, the kind she has given to him for as long as he has known her. Her eyes, her lips, her soft skin… all exactly as he remembers her.

All day, the idea of being home felt so abstract even though he actually is home. It’s as if he fears that it’s all a dream he’ll wake up from once the first shots are fired in the morning. But standing in front of Clarke now, reaching up to caress her soft cheek, feeling her melt into his touch… it finally feels real. He’s home now.

“Did your mother catch you sneaking out?” she asks, and he shakes his head no. Though, his mother likely knew what he was doing and didn’t bother trying to stop him this time. Bellamy is many things, but subtle is not one of them. He has been anxiously counting down the hours until he could see Clarke again, and he made Octavia help him search his entire room for the ring that he purchased months before he was deployed. His entire household must have suspected this is where he would be tonight.

A giddy smile forms on her lips as she lifts herself onto her toes to press a kiss to his lips. His hands rest on her lower back, feeling the satin fabric of her nightgown. Bellamy sighs happily against her lips. Neither of them seem to feel the urgency from early this morning, just content to touch and kiss each other again.

“I missed you so much,” he tells her. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” she whispers, tracing a thumb over his freckles. “I was so sick with worry that something might—”

“Clarke.”

Her eyes flicker up to his, the small glimmer of sadness fading as she recovers. “And now you’re home,” she grins.

“And now I’m home,” he echoes as he leans forward to take her lips again. An excited little squeak escapes her lips as he walks her back to her bed, and that sound alone makes sneaking up here worth it.

The mattress creaks as they fall onto it, and the two of them freeze for a moment, their eyes darting toward her door. When no footsteps begin darting up the stairs, they both let out a quiet breath.

Bellamy is more careful as he turns on his side, barely making a sound now. Clarke curls into his side, propping her chin up impatiently for another kiss. He runs his thumb over her sweet lips, watching her dark lashes bat at him.

“Kiss me,” she whines. He chuckles softly as he follows her order, letting his hand slide back into her hair as his lips graze against hers. Her kiss feels just as he remembers it, gentle yet demanding. Her soft sighs fell on his lips the same way they always had, her happy humming still making something flutter in his ribcage. It feels like he never stopped kissing her, like all that time away from her was a dream and he had never actually left this bed.

Clarke tangles her fingers in his curls and tugs, ripping a low moan from the back of his throat. He pulls her warm, soft body closer to his. His hand rests on her waist, just below the swell of her breasts. She arches into him, pressing her chest tight against his as if she couldn’t get close enough.

They stay like that for a while. Just kissing and clinging to each other, occasionally whispering that they love each other. But then, Clarke pulls her lips away and tilts her head up, exposing her neck to him. He presses a slow kiss to her jawline, savoring the quiet way her breath catches as he kisses further down. Bellamy rolls her onto her back to get a better angle, and her fingers fly to his curls, slowly pulling and combing through them as his lips travel down her throat. Her moans are quiet, only audible enough for him to hear. But as his lips near her collarbone, they grow louder.

“Clarke,” he chuckles into her skin, and she slaps a hand over her mouth. He kisses a straight line down her chest, stopping just before he reaches the neckline of her nightgown before trailing kisses up again. But Clarke’s fingers in his hair pull him back down, guiding him toward her breasts. “Sweetheart,” he warns.

A mischievous grin forms on her lips. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this,” she says, her voice sweet like honey.

“Thinking about what, exactly?” he teases. Bellamy lets his rough fingers travel over the exposed skin on her chest.

“You.” His eyes meet hers for a brief moment before her gaze turns downcast. “Thought about how you would touch me. Even tried touching myself like that too.”

His cock stirs at the image. “Did you now?” he asks, voice lower than before. He could picture it perfectly. Clarke’s head resting against the headboard, her knees spread apart as she touched herself, his name spilling off her lips as she came undone… “Did it feel good?”

“Not as good as when you did it,” she whispers with a blush. “But it was good. I’d think about you being here, kissing me…”

“Kissing you where?” The question spills off his lips before he could stop it. Clarke’s cheeks grow redder, and he slowly presses a kiss to her collarbone. “Here?”

“No.” Before he could ask where, Clarke pushes down the straps of her nightgown. His jaw goes slack as he watches her pull the fabric down below her breasts.  He sucks in a breath as he gapes at her soft pale breasts. He can’t stop his fingers from trailing over her rosy pink nipples, nor his mouth from grazing her skin as he positions it over her nipple.

“Here?” he whispers, letting his breath fan out over her skin.

“Please.” His eyes flicker up to hold her gaze as he lowers his mouth over her nipple. The first kiss that lands is chaste, innocent, even. But that doesn’t stop Clarke from whimpering at the mere touch of his lips to her sensitive nipples. The second kiss is anything but innocent.

Bellamy envelops the nipple, letting his tongue flick it as he moans into her skin. Clarke slaps a hand over her mouth as she whimpers, and he can’t help but smile into her skin. “This what you were thinking about?” Clarke averts her gaze as he peers up at her, cheeks turning pink. “It’s what I thought about.”

Her eyes meet his, widening at his confession. Bellamy slides both his hands up her sides, letting his thumbs graze the sides of her breasts. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you, Clarke,” he whispers before kissing her breast again. “I was thinking about kissing you and touching you.” His next kiss is to her collarbone, and her breath catches. “Thinking about how beautiful you are. About how much I love you.” His mouth is on her throat now, and he can feel how shaky her breath is. “Drove myself mad thinking about you, sweetheart.”

Her fingers find his jaw, and she pulls his head towards her so that she can kiss him. He hums happily against her lips, letting the weight of his body rest on hers. Her bare breasts are pressed hard against his chest, her nipples so hard that he can feel them through the fabric of his shirt.

“I love you, Bell,” Clarke murmurs against his mouth. He isn’t sure he’ll ever get used to Clarke Griffin telling him that she loves him. It still seems too good to be true. Like one day she’ll wake up and realize her mother was right about him all along. Yet here she is, declaring her love for him again and again after waiting for so long to get him home.

“I love you so much it hurts,” he says before kissing her again. He can feel her try to say the words again, but his mouth swallows her words as his tongue dives into her mouth. Her tongue finds his, and he can feel her shiver beneath him. His hand slides up her waist and cups her breast. It fits so perfectly in his hand, like it was made for him to caress. He squeezes lightly, loving the way Clarke’s responding moan echoes through his mouth.

Clarke slowly spreads her legs, allowing his body to rest between them. His hands act of their own accord, gripping her soft thighs as the growing bulge in his pants rests dangerously close to her cunt. He should stop, but her kisses are so hungry and her fingers keep tugging at his curls or shirt to drag him closer to her. He gets lost in it, letting his hips buck against her while they kiss. The bed creaks, they are both out of breath, and Clarke keeps humming his name like she’s desperate to hold onto him.

He tries to take control of the situation again. Kissing her slower. Gentler, even. But that only makes it ache worse. Clarke manages to make every kiss wet and dirty, and his cock twitches with every soft sigh or quiet moan falling off her lips.

“Sweetheart,” he warns, though he feels his own resolve begin to falter.

“Please. I’ve waited so long for you, Bell.” She takes his bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes flickering up to his mischievously. This girl, this beautiful girl looking up at him with those bright blue eyes, would surely be the death of him.

He leans over to whisper in her ear, keeping his voice low as he asks, “You want me to touch you, Clarke?”

There is a sharp intake of breath as he trails his fingers down her exposed breasts toward the fabric bunched around her waist and legs. When his hand reaches her warm, smooth thighs, a little squeak escapes her lips. Bellamy lets his lips rest below her jaw, lazily mouthing at her flushed skin while his hand runs up and down her thighs.

He shifts off her a bit, giving himself enough room to slide his hand between her legs. Bellamy hums when his fingers first brush the arousal dripping through the fabric. “This is what you needed, huh?” he teases her.

“I just needed you.” His eyes flicker up to hers, seeing the sincerity and longing behind those pretty eyes.

“You got me now,” he promises, pecking a kiss to her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“Clarke, I can’t leave you. Not again.” He doesn’t mean for his voice to break as he speaks, but it does, causing Clarke’s eyes to soften. Her hand trails up to his cheek, and he closes his eyes at the contact. “Being away from you was torture. Every day, all I wanted was to come home to you.”

“I know,” she whispers before kissing his cheek. “It was torture for me too.” He doesn’t mean to slam his lips onto hers, but he can’t help himself. This urge to kiss her pain away is too strong. He finds himself whispering that he isn’t going anywhere between kisses while his fingers rub her through the fabric. Clare’s arms wrap around his neck as she bucks into his hand. She’s breathless as she kisses him, unable to utter a coherent word as she whimpers and whines for him.

It takes a little while to get her all worked up like he used to. He’s too gentle at first, like he’s scared he might hurt her if he puts too much pressure onto her clit. But he slowly relearns how to touch his girl, how to have her whimpering and shuddering beneath him.

She’s so beautiful like this. Clarke is always beautiful, the kind of girl that has guys falling over themselves trying to chase after her. But when it’s just the two of them in her bedroom, _beautiful_ doesn’t seem like the right word to describe her. Her golden hair is all tangled and spread out on the mattress, a far cry from the perfect curls she donned during the day. Her lips are all bruised and red from his kisses. Her eyes are soft and dazed, relaxed in a way he never sees anywhere else. And the way she smiles up at him, all lovestruck and giddy… it has him itching to wrap himself around her, to hold her and kiss her and protect her because she is the most precious thing in the whole world.

Something about how she looks up at him has his heart fluttering rapidly. Almost as if she can’t believe this is real either.

He buries his face into her neck, letting the soft smell of her flowery perfume wash over him. His fingers trace over the bare skin just below her breast, and he kisses her chastely under her jaw. The two of them lie there for a few minutes in each other’s arms, neither of them saying a thing.

Eventually, Bellamy whispers, “Remember, I can’t be here when your mom wakes up.” It certainly wouldn’t be the first time Mrs. Griffin caught them, but considering Bellamy wants to propose to her daughter, he thinks its best to stay on her good side.

“That’s hours away,” she whines as she hitches a leg over his.

“You want to get me in trouble?”

“I just want you here,” she whispers before pressing a slow, wet kiss to his skin. A small gasp falls off his lips as he feels his cock stir. He tries to ignore it, but then Clarke settles her full weight on top of him as her kisses to his neck grow harder. She’s tight against him, close in a way that no one had been since he left for war. He can’t help but hold her close, encouraging her as she gently rocks against him.

It’s slow, almost lazy, how their bodies glide against each other. His hips meet hers with every movement. Her hums are in rhythm with each small jerk of his hips. Bellamy could stay like this forever with her, slowly touching and kissing in the dark before the rest of the world wakes up.

But it doesn’t stay lazy. He knows what Clarke really wants, what she wanted the night before he left but he insisted they wait. As much as he wanted her, the possibility of leaving her unmarried and pregnant while he was off fighting was too strong, and he couldn’t do that to her when he saw what that had done to his mother. At the time, waiting was the right decision.

But now, Clarke is half undressed on top of him, each kiss and caress somehow sweeter than the last. And Bellamy itches to make up for lost time, to touch and kiss every inch of her until they both forget how the war tore them apart. There is a ring burning a hole in his pocket, and all he wants is to get it on her finger and start the lives they were supposed to have a long time ago. And above all else, he wants to give himself to her, to rip away any doubt that he could ever leave her again.

So, his desperate lips meet hers, and his body cries out in relief when she lets out a contented sigh and buries her fingers in his hair. Her hips glide against his erection as she whimpers into his mouth, and his hands rest on her waist to speed up her movements. They creep up under her nightgown, feeling her smooth waist and stomach beneath his fingertips.

“Can I?” he asks, his voice cracking as he speaks. Clarke bites down on her lip and nods. Pulling the nightgown up over her head isn’t as smooth as he thought it would be. But Bellamy’s too nervous, Clarke’s hand gets caught, and both of them struggle to muffle their giggling. Eventually, he gets it off her, and a blush creeps onto Clarke’s cheeks the longer he stares at her bare chest. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, letting his hands slide up her sides.

“Bell—”

“I mean it, sweetheart,” he promises, letting his eyes flicker up to meet hers. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He cranes his neck up a bit, and Clarke meets him halfway for a slow kiss. Her blonde hair falls all around his face, obscuring his view. But he finds it hard to mind when he feels her soft fingers on his cheeks, touching him with such gentleness like she might break him if she isn’t careful.

He pulls her tight against him before he maneuvers her onto her back. Bellamy tugs his shirt off as fast as he can before leaning back down to take her lips again. Her hands rest on his shoulders, slowly trailing her index fingers down his arms, tracing every dent and muscle with reverence. When he pulls back, he catches her eyes gazing up at him with the same adoration that her gentle touch showed him.

“I love you,” she tells him again, a shy but incredibly happy smile on her lips. Bellamy would give anything to keep seeing that smile every second of every day.

“And I love you.” Too much, it seems. With every touch, Bellamy feels closer and closer to exploding from happiness, from the overwhelming love he has for this girl. Before he can think better of it, he says, “Marry me.” Her eyes widen up at him, but the smile on her lips only grows. “Please. Haven’t we had to wait long enough?”

“Too long,” she whispers, craning her neck up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“I wanted to marry you before I left, but—”

“I know.”

Bellamy rests his forehead against hers, and his thumb traces over her bottom lip. “Sweetheart, I—”

“Ask me, Bell,” she giggles, and his smile is too wide to kiss her properly. It’s a little awkward fishing the ring out of his back pocket with Clarke squirming under him impatiently. But when he looks back up at her once it’s in his hand, the look of pure joy in her eyes makes him forget all about it.

“Clarke, I love you. I have always loved you,” he whispers. “I want to spend my whole life with you and never ever have to leave you like that again. Will you marry me?”

She presses her lips together as she nods, small tears beginning to form in her eyes. Bellamy presses his lips hard against hers, using his thumb to wipe away the happy tears that had begun to follow.

Bellamy leans up to put the ring on her, his hands shaking as it slides on. It’s not the nicest ring, certainly not the flashy kind that Abby Griffin has on her hand. But it’s a ring that Bellamy spent a year saving up for, one that was simple, yet elegant. It’s the ring that he spotted in a shop window and knew it would look beautiful on Clarke’s hand.

He was right, of course. The ring looks stunning on her delicate finger. But its beauty is nothing compared to Clarke’s smile as she holds her hand out to look at it. “It’s so beautiful,” she murmurs before her watery eyes shift back to him. “Bell, I—”

He can’t hold back from kissing her any longer. As her lips part for him, he lets his body drape over hers. All that time away made him forget how small she is compared to him, how he can completely cover her body with his own. It taps into something protective in him, like wrapping himself around her and holding her through the night keeps her safe.

Her arms wrap around his neck, pulling him even closer. His hands slide down her waist, his fingers resting over the waistband of her underwear. Her breath hitches against his lips as he lets his thumbs dip below, and he pauses. “Please,” she whispers.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?”

“Very sure. I need you, Bell. All of you.” There is a break in her voice at the end, the kind that has him pressing kisses all over her cheeks to reassure her.

She whines when he pulls off her, her hands reaching to pull him back to her. He chuckles quietly, loving how her cheeks grow pink when he looks at her. Despite being desperate to touch her again, Bellamy takes his time undoing his pants so he can look at her.

Clarke is nearly naked on her bed. Her smooth, pale skin contrasts with the dimly lit room, like she is somehow glowing for him. When she catches him staring, she bites down on her bottom lip and moves her arms to cover her breasts.

“Let me see you,” he pleads, and her eyes widen up at him. Slowly, her arms fall back to her sides. A smile tugs at his lips and he lets his gaze travel down her chest and soft stomach all the way to her smooth calves. “Beautiful. My beautiful girl,” he whispers.

Once he is completely undressed, he catches Clarke staring at him too. His heart stutters as her gaze drops to his cock. It’s certainly not the first time she’s seen it, but it is the first time she has seen him completely naked. And the loving, almost lewd way she stares at him has his throat growing dry.

Her eyes flicker up to meet his, and she bites down on her lip again. He is about to climb back over her when he sees Clarke’s thumbs dip under the waistband of her underwear. Slowly, she pulls them down, revealing the dark curls that cover her glistening cunt. He can’t move as she does this, too frozen by the beautiful show she is putting on for him.

He isn’t sure how long they stay like that, just raking over each other’s naked form in silence, but eventually, he can’t take not touching her any longer. Bellamy climbs back on top of her, his heart pounding as Clarke cranes her neck up to kiss him.

“I love you,” she murmurs into his mouth. “So much, Bell.”

“And I love you,” he tells her again, bracing his hands on either side of her face. Their kisses start slow again, but it doesn’t last. Within moments, Clarke is pulling at his curls and Bellamy is squeezing her sides while his tongue plunges into her mouth.

When he pulls away to catch his breath, her back arches in a not so subtle and very impatient way. It wouldn’t be too long before she tries to flip them over so she could speed things up. With a quiet chuckle, he takes the hint and pushes off her just enough to line himself up with her entrance.

Bellamy watches her face as he slowly presses inside, freezing when her brows begin to furrow. “I’m okay,” she reassures, so he continues. But she is so achingly tight around him, all wet and warm, squeezing him perfectly. As much as he is desperate to press all the way inside, he does his best to remain slow and watch her reactions carefully.

“More,” she whines when he starts to pull out, and he can’t help but chuckle because this is so perfectly Clarke. She wants what she wants, and she gets what she wants as soon as she asks… and he is all too willing to give her anything she asks for.

The second time he presses inside her, he goes faster and deeper. The knitting of her brows disappears and her lips part in a quiet gasp.

The third, she moans so loud that his hand has to cover her mouth. “Your mother could hear us,” he whispers before lifting his hand.

“If she does, she’ll make you marry me tomorrow so there wouldn’t be a scandal. And then, I wouldn’t have to wait.” She’s breathless, too overwhelmed to use her teasing voice. Normally, he would quip back, but the warm, breathy voice is doing too much to him. So, he kisses her instead, letting his full body weight press into hers. A startled, happy sound escapes the back of her throat and she throws her arms around his neck.

It’s easier now. She’s still so tight around him, but now it’s like her cunt was meant for his cock with how perfectly she takes him. Clarke bites down on her lip to keep from moaning too loud, and Bellamy has to muffle his own desperate noises against her neck. The only sounds in the room are the wet sounds of their bodies slamming together and a quiet squeak from her mattress.

She shifts a little, pressing one of her knees up so that his cock reaches deeper inside her. He curses into her neck and a quiet whine escapes her throat. “Bell,” she whimpers, and he presses a kiss to her throat. “I’m so close.”

“I know, I know,” he hums as he speeds up his thrusts. Her fingers weave through his hair, giving him a hard pull when his cock slams into her. Bellamy’s lips find hers, and he can feel them quiver slightly as he gives her a gentle kiss. It takes a few more thrusts for her cunt to pulse around him, squeezing him so perfectly that he can’t hold off any longer.

He moans into her mouth as he spills inside of her. Her back arches ever so slightly, pressing her breasts hard against his bare chest. His mind stills, the only thing he can really focus on is how warm she feels around him and the way her whimpers echo in his mouth.

He doesn’t pull away for a while. His forehead presses into hers, and his eyes fall shut. All he hears is their combined labored breathing, and it’s such a beautiful sound. It is something he never thought about wanting to hear while he was overseas. He thought about hearing her voice again, dreamt of hearing his name on her lips, wanted to hear her sweet giggle… but how could he forget how perfect it was just to hear his girl breathing?

 

* * *

 

Bellamy doesn’t mean to fall asleep in Clarke’s bed. He meant to sneak out once she was fast asleep, but the exhaustion for the day finally set in, and he couldn’t help it. The combination of being on a real mattress again and having Clarke curled into his side was just too much for him to resist.

When Clarke’s mother knocks on the door, Bellamy rolls off the bed and falls onto the floor to hide behind it. “Clarke?” she calls out, and Clarke frantically pulls her blanket over her naked body. Bellamy holds his breath as the door swings open.

“I’ll get up in a minute,” Clarke says.

“Alright, I almost have breakfast ready,” Mrs. Griffin replies. Bellamy waits to hear her footsteps, but they never come. “And Bellamy?” His stomach stops but he doesn’t make a move. “I expect you up and dressed for breakfast too.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mutters into the floor, his face beat red. He managed to stay hidden from enemy soldiers for more than a year, but after one day back home, he gets caught by Abby Griffin.

As soon as the door is shut, Clarke erupts into a giggle. He pops his head up, narrowing his eyes at her. “Good morning,” she chuckles. With a sigh, he pushes himself off the floor and leans over to kiss her.

“Good morning.” He finds himself smiling as he says that, knowing that he doesn’t have to savor waking up in the same bed as her. Soon enough, every morning will be like this, minus Clarke’s mother barging in. “How mad did she seem?”

“Not too mad. She probably knew this would happen when you came home.” She presses a quick peck to his lips. “Besides, she can’t stay mad for long when we have good news.” His heart does a little flip as she flutters her left hand to highlight the ring.

“We tell your mom at breakfast and then go tell my mom and Octavia?” he asks. Her smile grows while she nods. He swears he doesn’t giggle, but the happy sound that escapes his lips sounds eerily similar to it. He kisses her again, this time slower, more deliberate. He tries to use her kiss as a way to steady his own excitement, but it doesn’t work. He’s too in love with her, too giddy about getting to spend his life with her to calm down.

Bellamy is gonna marry this girl, his perfect, beautiful, kind girl. “I love you,” he tells her.

“I love you too.” She pecks his lips before pushing him back. “Now put some clothes on so we can share the big news, soldier.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can come hang out with me on tumblr or twitter @asroarke. comments and kudos always appreciated. love y'all.


End file.
